


Fingers

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred and George correct a difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
> 
> This is a redrabbled version of the extremely old story, 'Fingers,' from my ancient FFN account.

Because they’re stubborn, their mum has to physically tug on the gloves and mittens, beaming, “There! Now I can tell you apart.”

Fred has gloves and George has mittens. Both sets are red, standing out brilliantly against their grey jackets and clashing horribly with their orange hair. As soon as their mum bustles back into the kitchen, the twins make their way to the front door. They’ve already got their boot and scarves on—they were ready before she stopped them.

Now they feel distinctly worse off, and they both sit down on the porch at the exact same time. They were going to build a snowman and decorate it with the glasses they stole from Percy, mainly so they can tease him about being cold and lifeless, and affectionately mix him up with a snowman all day.

Now they’re just staring at their hands—George feels like his fingers have been taped down. For once, Fred got the better deal, and it’s an odd feeling. Usually they get the same deal. This is... irksome.

“I don’t like these things,” Fred sniffs suddenly, clearly bordering on a scowl. George nods.

“Yeah. ...This... this isn’t right.”

George holds his hand out for Fred to take, but they can’t intertwine their fingers, and that makes the motion feel conspicuously off. Their palms line up, but there’s too much fabric between them. George tugs his mittens off mostly just to feel the skin contact—even cold, Fred’s hands belong in his.

Fred only takes off one glove. He grabs one of George’s mittens, slipping it onto his free hand. Then he passes George the spare glove—George takes it, replacing both that and the free mitten. Then he holds his hands up, and Fred does the same. A glove on the left hand, a mitten on the right. It isn’t perfect, but it’s something.

They’re the same again, the way it should be.

Leaning in to peck Fred’s cheek, George stands up, helping Fred follow. Together they start rolling the snow up—snow-Percy won’t build itself.


End file.
